


Magical Realism

by Thedupshadove



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: F/M, Love Confessions, More just that thing Abed does, Roleplay?, so he can process and communicate them better, where he cloaks scary feelings in fictional allusion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:40:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22931911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thedupshadove/pseuds/Thedupshadove
Summary: Once again, make-believe rushes in where honesty fears to tread.
Relationships: Annie Edison/Abed Nadir
Comments: 5
Kudos: 111





	Magical Realism

“I think I’m under a spell.”

Annie looks up from her book to see Abed standing over her. _Alright_ , she thinks, _where are you going with this?_ “What kind of spell?”

“A love spell.”

“I see. What makes you say that?”

“It’s the only explanation.”

Like pulling teeth sometimes, she swears. “Of what?”

“Of what I’m feeling. I’ve had crushes before, but this goes beyond any of that. I wake up and she’s immediately on my mind. Seeing her makes my heart squeeze up and start hammering, but it feels so good. I can’t seem to look at anything without wondering what she’d think about it. I can barely seem to _think_ about anything except her, spending time with her, making her happy. And every night it seems I dream about holding her close and losing myself in the smell of her hair and the feel of her skin. She’s etched into my brain and woven into my blood and every beat of my heart pulses like a prayer to her name, Annie, Annie, _Annie_ ” He’s knelt down, eye-to-eye with her wide-eyed startled face. “This isn’t explicable by the ordinary process of love. So it’s got to be some kind of spell.”

She doesn’t know what to say. On one level, this is something she’s wished to hear for ages, but then again…a spell? She knows he’s using reference and metaphor to communicate, of course, but communicate what, exactly? Love spells aren’t usually depicted as unambiguously good…

“Do you think...she...deliberately cast this spell on you? Is...is she the sort of person who would try to supplant your free will like that?”

He shakes his head. “You misunderstand. This isn’t the kind of spell that someone casts intentionally. It’s more like...knocking some ingredients together in a lab and accidentally creating a love potion, then someone wanders in and drinks it before you can warn them not to.” 

“Oh.”

“And then it’s too late. All they can do is swoon around picking flowers and pining away for their beloved.”

“So. How do we go about undoing this spell?”

“Oh, I don’t think there’s any cure. Besides which...I’m not entirely sure I _want_ to.”

“...Oh?”

“I mean, on one level I probably should. This is so intense, it’s kind of scary. It’s tempting to want things to go back to the way they were. But then again...the way just one glance can bowl me over. The way one smile can set me up on a cloud for days. The thought that maybe, even just _maybe_ , I could someday have her...it’s hard to let that go.”

“Hmmm. Well, my instincts would normally tell me that if you asked her, your odds would be pretty good,” she sees his eyes light up, “but if you really are under a spell, how can she ethically accept you? Wouldn’t she be taking advantage of your altered state?”

She thinks she sees him grasp what she’s trying to drive at, within his own constructed metaphor. “Well...it does sometimes happen that what seems like an outside force effecting people’s minds is really just what was needed for their true feelings to come out. That the supposed twisting of the mind was just a lowering of inhibitions.”

“Well, you may have a point. Not to mention...”

“What?”

“I...think I might be under a spell too.”

His hand goes to cup her cheek as his face turns to a picture of horrified concern that she _thinks_ is mostly acting. “Oh, my fair one! Are you hurt?”

“No, no. I meant...the same kind of spell that you’re under.”

Now she can _definitely_ see the glow in his eyes. “I see.”

“But...I do think I might feel better if you held me. I think it would, um, soothe my fevered heart.”

“You need only ask.” And then he does pull her to him, wrap his arms around her. As she settles into the embrace, she rather thinks she can hear him give a little moan of disbelieving bliss.

 _Here’s to never being freed_ , she thinks.


End file.
